


Stockholm Syndrome

by idontwanttheworld-iwantmalec (GoodFinderBadger)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bucky is the best uncle ever, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Rape Recovery, Steve Rogers is a Good Dad, Stockholm Syndrome, Tony Stark is a Good Dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 05:58:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19661245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodFinderBadger/pseuds/idontwanttheworld-iwantmalec
Summary: Peter had so many plans after high school.  He was meant to go to MIT and major in engineering to take over his Dad's company.  He was meant to stay in love with his boyfriend Ned Leeds and possibly move in together at some point.  Everything changed when he was taken the summer after high school ended.  Six months later he was rescued and brought back home to try and put his life together again.  He had always thought coming home would be all he ever wanted and easy to adjust to, but he's finding that it isn't that simple.  He needs to learn how to adjust to a life full of choice and opportunity again.  He needs to stop missing the man who caused him hell for months.  He needs to live up to the son he was meant to be instead of the mess they found.The question was how.





	Stockholm Syndrome

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know how this happened guys. I have so many fics to work on right now but this screamed to be written so I did a thing. This is a heavy fic and not for the faint hearted. Peter is very mentally messed up here but he is trying his best. I wanted to explore the mindset of this and I might get everything wrong....in fact I probably will without meaning to. Let me know what you think guys, or if this should be abandoned forever.

In his dreams things were never black and white.

He saw blonde hair and intense blue eyes so close to his own that he could see the darker flecks of color in them. He could count freckles across pale cheeks and see a smile that meant safety and that no harm would come to him. He felt a high as fingers gently trailed over his skin, giving him enough pleasure to keep his mind from breaking. He smelled the lavender oils that were meant to help his anxiety and keep him calm. 

Then he remembered the horror and the pain.

He felt the pain of hands slapping him across the face or across the ass harshly enough to bruise. Being thrown on the floor when he wasn’t enthusiastically cooperating and kicked until he was begging for it to stop. He smelt the blood on him mixed with cum from any number of men who had paid for a good time. He saw his fingers break one by one when he was first taken and naively believing that was the worst things could get for him. That that was the most pain he had ever felt in his life and it couldn’t get worse. 

The two sides of the coin that was his kidnapping kept warring in him and mixed together in sickening ways that made him wake up in a cold sweat with tears on his face and an ache in his heart he couldn’t shake. He wiped his cheeks as he tried to ground himself in the soft cotton sheets beneath him and remember that he was home now. He was back in one of the safest places on earth and if Peter knew their AI as well as he thought he did then his dad would be here in less than two minutes. 

He wanted his dad here, of course he did, but his mind traitorously remembered a touch he didn’t have to question since it was based on his good behavior and he only got his touch when he was a good boy and had earned it. His dad’s touch was unconditional and for some reason that made Peter fear it more. His dad had been through his own hell, but nothing quite like this and he didn’t understand, could never understand this. 

Peter couldn’t understand this.

His door opened quietly and the ache increased when he saw his dad’s face, worry lines by his eyes that hadn’t been there six months ago. He saw his dark hair with silver all through it instead of the bright blonde he was used to seeing for so long. HIs eyes were a warm brown instead of bright blue and it all felt so wrong. His tears increased and he looked down at his hands, ashamed of these feelings he couldn’t explain toward a man he should hate. His fathers were trying to find the man he had been with for months, since there was no other justice they could get out of all of this. Peter wasn’t helping them as much as he probably should be, but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to help them. The ache in his heart wouldn’t let him.

“Hey bambino,” Hs dad’s voice was husky with sleep and he was warm when he sat next to Peter on the bed. “Bad dreams, bud?”

Bittersweet was closer to the truth.

“Yeah,” Peter agreed, huddling under his dad’s arm and trying not to hate how hairy it was when he was used to smoother skin against his. He bit his lip and tried to hide as a sob tore through him.

“Oh sweetheart,” His dad said softly, pulling him into a gentle hug, one hand around his back and the other tangled in his curls to scratch at his scalp gently. He really shouldn’t accept this comfort when he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve to be held when he dreamed of his captor like this. When Peter missed him fiercely and that was the reason for his tears late at night. He hated most of what had happened to him under the care of Skip, but the parts he didn’t hate were what made him feel sick to his stomach. “I’m so sorry you have to suffer like this, baby.”

“It’s okay,” Peter whispered, meaning it. He deserved to suffer when his feelings were wrong and his head was all kinds of fucked up. “Is Pops home yet?”

“Should be,” Tony agreed with a glance at his clock on the wall. “Probably downstairs getting some dinner and winding down.”

“You should go and see if he’s okay,” Peter wiped his face and tried to seem fine. “I… Maybe I’ll take a hot shower to relax again.”

“I can tell Pops to come up here with us?” Tony offered, eyes worried and focused on him. Peter missed when that look meant more. When that look was one that made him so sure that his dad would protect him from anything and everything. Now he knew the world was more evil than he ever thought even with aliens and villains every other month attacking their city. Evil that even his superhero dads couldn’t stop from infiltrating their lives. 

“Yeah, that would-” Peter cut himself off when he felt warmth between his legs and shut his eyes in horror. He still didn’t have control over his bladder even two weeks after coming home. He had been conditioned to use a diaper when he was taken and his captor had wanted him to rely solely on him for everything. He was fed by him, bathed by him, and he wasn’t allowed to use a toilet as a form of control. Peter had fought it for a little while, but after being beaten for holding it time after time he had given into what was expected of him. After six months he no longer thought to hold it or to even think about if he needed to go. Now he was back in the real world and it was harder to adjust than he would have ever thought possible.

Peter had never considered he would come back.

“It’s okay,” HIs dad reassured him quickly as Peter turned ten shades of red and jumped off the bed as if scalded. 

“I”m sorry!” Peter rambled, frozen to the spot after moving so suddenly. He wasn’t allowed to leave the bed without permission. He wasn’t allowed to speak either, but the apologies normally went unpunished for the most part. He looked to his feet and tensed his body, ready to be backhanded across the face or shoved to the ground of-

“You don’t need to apologize, sweetheart,” HIs dad’s voice was gentle as he also moved to stand by him and Peter had to force himself to remember that he was home now. He wasn’t punished for such simple things. Even if he was punished it was never physical, ever. He was home and he was safe and away from Skip.

The thought of his name was too much and Peter burst into tears again, burying his face in his hands, wetness trailing down his legs sickeningly and he hated how much of a mess he was. He flinched away from the hand on his shoulder, unable to handle being touched right now when Skip’s face floated in his mind and he felt so lost in a place where it should feel familiar without any effort. 

“What happened?” Pops was at the door and the blonde flash of hair made his stomach twist so he returned his eyes to the floor quickly. “Pete, what’s wrong? Tony?”

“NIghtmare and accident combo,” His dad said sadly, hovering but respecting his aversion to touch. “Can you grab some sheets, please?”

“You aren’t in any trouble, okay?” Pops said softly and Peter knew the words were meant for him. He nodded jerkily, unable to look up still. “Love you, babydoll.”

“Can you let me see those bambi eyes?” HIs dad asked quietly as Pops left to get clean sheets. They had been working on that the most, a first step if you will. He was supposed to learn how to retain eye contact with people again. He was so used to being submissive that it came second nature to him by now. 

“S-sorry,” Peter said softly, raising his head to see his dad smiling at him gently and raising a hand to stroke his cheek. It felt nice, even if the callouses were all wrong. 

“You want to get in the shower?” Dad asked and Peter knew he really did have a choice even if it didn’t seem like it. He knew he was broken by the way that a shower alone sounded so unpleasant. He hadn’t showered alone in six months and now he was just alone so much. He was expected to be an adult and take care of his own basic needs when it felt so foreign to him. Skip had always washed him when he behaved enough to deserve it. A shower had been a reward and now it was just a basic part of life. He had to do so much alone and he hated it. 

“Y-yeah,” Peter stuttered out the correct answer since it wasn’t like he could ask for company for this. His dad had been with him as much as he could while being an Avenger and running a billion dollar company with Pepper. He had a tower full of people around at any given time so he couldn’t say he was alone, except for sleeping and bathing. He grabbed a towel from his closet and shuffled into his bathroom and hated that his dad had to deal with accidents like he was a toddler all over again. 

He stepped under the spray of warm water and could only stand it for a minute before turning the water cold as punishment. Punishment and reward was a system he could handle and right now he didn’t deserve an award. He deserved to be punished for missing that sick bastard. The man who sold him out to hundreds of men for money.. He treated him like a thing, a pet, and Peter was fucked up enough to miss him. To compare his own parents to that man after all they had done for him. He wasn’t much of a son right now. Some heir he would be to his father’s legacy like this. 

He stepped out and barely let himself dry off with the soft towels before putting on clean pajamas and facing his parents again. The bed was freshly made with both his dads standing by the bed talking softly. They turned to him as soon as he opened the door and he wasted no time to hug his Pops, his strong, long arms coming around him as if they could hold him together. 

“There’s my boy,” Pops murmured with a kiss to his forehead. Peter had always been a daddy’s boy but ever since coming home he preferred Pops to hold him. He felt as if there weren’t expectations with Pops. He wasn’t disappointed that there was no way that Peter would be able to go to MIT in any near future or possibly even be an engineer of any kind. He didn’t have the dexterity for it after his fingers healed. They had been broken more than once and healed more than once incorrectly. Bruce had told them that while they were healed that Peter would never have the flexibility and dexterity he had before anything ever happened. 

He was lucky if he would even be able to be the pretty face for Stark Industries. 

“Why are you so cold, babydoll?” Pops asked softly, rubbing his arms softly. Of course they would notice how cold he was. They cared about details like that. They cared about him and loved him while Peter was stuck missing the man they were trying to put behind bars at the very least. 

“Took a cold shower,” Peter mumbled, the warmth feeling good and making him shift closer. 

“Why didn’t you use hot water?” Dad sounded so lost and concerned and frustrated all at once. Peter knew he didn’t understand, neither of them could. They didn’t understand that this new life without punishment or expectation was impossible for him to navigate. They were both looking at him ,expecting an answer and it made him nervous. 

He whined softly and didn’t much care how it looked as he reached up to his pops like he had when he was a child and the world was too big for him to understand. He wanted to be held right now and not have to make any more decisions for himself tonight. Pops smiled sadly before smoothly picking him up and placing him on his hip. Peter curled into him and buried his face in the warm skin of Pop’s neck and inhaling shakily. 

“Punishment,” Peter said shyly and so only Pops could hear him. A pained noise left Pop’s throat as he rubbed his back softly. “Wanna sleep with you.”

“Sleepover it is,” Pops said and Peter was so relieved he didn’t ask about why he wanted to punish himself. “C’mon, Doll, time for bed for all of us.” 

Dad trailed after them as they entered the master bedroom with windows overlooking the city. The lights twinkled and it made Peter feel calm for the first time all night. He loved the city and he missed swinging amongst the lights and sounds helping the people of his city. He missed feeling so free and so in control of his life. He had been a hero for three years and he was determined that his career wasn’t ended due to a senseless kidnapping. He would get back to normal one day and he would be fixed. He would love his boyfriend again and stop missing Skip so much every single moment of his day. 

It was just going to take him a hell of a long time.

~~~~

Tony laid awake next to his son and his husband, mind reeling from just the last few hours not to mention the last few months. He was used to comforting Peter through things by now. He never thought he would be good at doing so after the way he had been raised, but he liked to think he was even good at it. Peter had been through a lot in his teen years. He became an enhanced human three years ago and had been through a lot as a result. Buildings dropped on him, stabbed, shot a time or two, and the list went on and on. He had nightmares now and then of course and Tony always had him sleeping again within an hour. 

Now, even his getting Peter to sleep superpower had changed. 

He wasn’t having normal nightmares from what he could tell. He jumped from wanting to be held to flinching at touch. He was still operating under a reward and punishment system that Tony couldn’t break him of. It wasn’t so much that Peter liked it, but rather that he didn’t know how to live without it. Making decisions was so hard for his son now, and Tony would love to kill who had made him this way except that Peter didn’t seem able or willing to talk about anything like that. 

He didn’t even have a name to go off of.

He glanced at Peter’s peaceful sleeping face and fought the burning at the back of his eyes. There wasn’t a reason to cry anymore. They had Peter back with them, and if he wasn’t the same that was no reason to cry. Trauma changed people, but he never thought his kid would go through trauma powerful enough to do so. 

“Are you awake?” Steve was the one to ask tonight and Tony was so grateful he wasn’t alone in this mess. Married for twenty years now, and Tony was still falling more in love with his husband. 

“Yeah,” Tony was too tired and his mind too muddled to come up with a quippy comeback. “Can we go outside and talk? Please?”

“I think he’s asleep,” Steve confirmed with another look to the boy between them. They both crept out of bed as smoothly as they could and Steve held out his robe as they stepped onto their balcony, leaving the door cracked so they could hear if Peter so much as made a single sound in his sleep. Tony strode to the balcony and pulled out a pack of cigarettes he kept on hand these days. 

“I thought you were going to quit when Peter came home,” Steve commented with a hand on the small of his back. Tony leaned into his touch and closed his eyes as the nicotine hit him.

“Yeah, I know. I was.” The fact that their stress hadn’t let up even a little hung between them unsaid. “I can’t figure him out Steve, at all. I don’t know what triggers him even. He’s unpredictable and it’s like he wants to get better but doesn’t at the same time.”

“I think there are layers to this we don’t fully know about yet,” Steve said quietly into his hair, lips brushing against his temple softly. “He’s only had a few sessions with Sam so far. Bruce has given us all the medical information he can.”

“You’re his new favorite,” Tony grumbled, the thought on repeat ever since Peter had fallen into his arms after his shower earlier. “I’m trying not to be a petty jealous asshole, but it’s weird.”

“I think he’s afraid things have changed between the two of you,” Steve pulled him closer the minute Tony put the cigarette out and tossed it aside. “Before he was taken all you two talked about was MIT and the lab and his engineering future. Now he certainly isn’t ready to go off to college yet and Bruce says he won’t have the dexterity for the work you two always do. His future has shifted quite a lot and his dreams weren’t only his own.”

“So I’ve completely failed as a father then,” Tony said deprecatingly, biting his thumb nail absently. “If he really thinks that our whole relationship is over now that he can’t go to some stupid fancy school or do the same job I do then I fucked up somewhere along the way.”

“It’s hardly that black and white,” Steve sighed and Tony imagined he must be exhausted. Long days at SHIELD were bound to make anyone exhausted, even enhanced soldiers. “He’s struggling with the Peter he is and the Peter he was forced to become by the man who took him. Pete is very codependent these days, have you noticed?”

“He hates being alone,” Tony agreed. “He will just sit in the lab, refusing to touch anything though. He just wants to always be with me or someone else. I thought it was just that he was away for so long, but I think it’s more than that.”

“Sam might have answers for us soon,” Steve brandished their friend who also was a therapist as a beacon of hope. “He can help us make sense of all this enough to start helping more than hurting.” 

“It’s like he’s trapped in his own mind,” Tony could relate on some level with ample experience with both anxiety and depression, but nothing to this extent. “Sometimes he looks at me like he’s begging me to get him out and to let him be how he was again. It breaks my heart so badly.” He lets the tears fall this time when they burn the back of his eyes, sniffing and wiping his cheeks with the sleeve of his robe.

“Me too, Doll,” Steve whispers as he holds him and rocks them gently for a second. “We’re going to help him as soon as we know how. It’s just hard being patient. Let’s get some sleep, alright? Both of us are irritable monsters when we’re tired and that’s the last thing anybody needs.”

“I love you,” Tony had to say as Steve turned to go back inside. As usual the words make Steve stop completely and soft affection fill his blue eyes. He cupped Tony’s jaw gently with one hand and pulled him in for a lingering chaste kiss. 

“Love you more,” Steve said gently as he did each and every day. Tony usually playfully argued the point, but in the moonlight he simply smiled and followed his husband back to bed. 

~~~

Peter woke up alone with sunshine streaming into his parent’s room. He fought down the wave of anxiety at being alone and knew that if he simply asked FRIDAY would easily tell him where his parents were. He was having therapy with Sam today and that was about to be a bundle of fun. This would be his sixth session with Sam and he knew that they would have to talk about what happened to him about now. He liked Sam and they could talk about anything, but he was trying to help Peter sort out things in his head. 

He knew this was a bad day when the minute he stood up he was completely lost of where to go or what to start his day with. He struggled with this stuff. He didn’t like having to dictate his day and choose what would happen and when. He had always liked a routine, but this was ridiculous. He was eighteen years old and he needed to just pick what he wanted to do first with his day. He could get dressed and go eat breakfast, or he could eat first before getting dressed. Maybe he should shower again since he wasn’t sure how clean he was after being exhausted last night, but should he wait since breakfast time was almost over by now or…?

His breathing was coming faster the more he thought about what order things could go in today. He wasn’t sure what his dads wanted and would they be upset if he picked the wrong order? What if he picked the wrong outfit for therapy? What if what he did choose didn’t end up matching? What if he ate the wrong thing for breakfast and made himself sick? What if they yelled at him for wasting water on another shower? Or if he didn’t shower he might smell bad and then he would be alone all day since nobody would want to be around him.

“Hey, Spider-baby,” The words barely registered and he knew Uncle Bucky was here since he was the only one who nicknamed him based on his persona. His dad tended to stick to Italian petnames most of the time or the customary ones. Pops never failed to call him babydoll at any given chance and not much else. “Hey, buddy, what has you so worked up?”

“I c-can’t-” Peter choked out as a hand pressed against his chest where it was starting to ache fiercely. He knew his anxiety was approaching stupid levels like it had before he had learned to manage it with his Dad. 

“Shh, okay Spiderling, take a nice deep breath,” Bucky was kneeling in front of him and he wasn’t alone any longer. Peter took hold of his metal hand so he could squeeze tightly and not be afraid of hurting his uncle. 

“Hurts,’ Peter whimpered and flinched at his own bravery to complain about pain. He was never allowed to complain about the pain he was in unless he just wanted more. The tears fell faster at so many jumbled memories of pain being added to him. “Sorry for c-complaining and it won’t happen again and I’m s-so sorry. I-”

“Okay, okay having a bad morning huh kiddo?” Bucky scooped him into his arms as he cried to carry him into the familiar territory of his room. Peter clung to him tightly and hid his face away, grateful that he wasn’t being punished for complaining. Bucky sat them on the bed to rock him gently until his tears stopped after a few minutes. “Feeling better?”

“I’m sorry,” Peter apologized softly, not as frantic now that someone was with him. 

“You don’t need to apologize itsy-bitsy,” Bucky stroked a hand over his hair fondly. “Can you tell me what set off this attack?”

“It’s stupid,” Peter mumbled because it truly was. Who freaked out over having to choose what to wear? He was acting like he was two years old and the new blue sheets on his bed only further proved it. 

“If something triggers you right now then it isn’t stupid,” Bucky insisted patiently, rubbing his back up and down soothingly. “We want you to have less tears is our only goal right now, alright? That’s all I care about.”

:”Where’s Pops?” Peter asked miserably, trying to stall having to admit what his breakdown had been about today. 

“He’s out shopping for some food,” Bucky answered. “Told me to keep an eye on you and that you were getting some sleep. Your dad has a meeting a few floors down. I can call either of them if you want me to.”

“No,” Peter shook his head. He did want one of them here, but he knew they had lives and jobs and missing an entire week to sit with him had already put them both far behind. “I don’t like being alone. I was never alone when I was… When I was with him.” Tears leaked out of his eyes and he looked down at his hands as tears dripped onto them. “There were just too many choices and I didn’t know what to do and I was scared of choosing wrong.” He ducked his head further and waited for Bucky to start laughing or tell him how ridiculous he wa being. 

“I know you get tired of hearing it,” Bucky told him with affection in his voice. “But you aren’t going to be punished for anything, got me? Also I love you a ton and nothing that makes you cry is stupid to me.”

“Thanks,” Peter said shyly, glancing up to see Bucky’s blue eyes were warm and gentle. “Can you…” He couldn’t ask without dying of embarrassment. No grown man asked for help picking out his clothes.”

“One thing at a time, bud, okay?” Bucky assured him gently. “What’s one choice you have to make right now?”

“What to wear,” Peter mumbled and huddled back into Bucky’s chest. He felt lips pressed to the top of his head. 

“Okay, how about I pick out two things and you choose between two. Is that easier?” Bucky offered and Peter nodded before sliding off Bucky’s lap to sit on the floor as he was used to doing. Bucky glanced at him, but Peter was glad he wasn’t pressing about this right now. It was a hard habit to break, not sitting on the floor without express permission to sit on furniture. Bucky went to the closet and picked out two shirts with only one pair of jeans, socks, and underwear. All Peter would have to choose was his shirt and he was so thankful that Bucky wasn’t making this weird. 

“Iron Man or Cap?” Bucky asked him with a smirk, tee of each in either hand. Peter smiled back and never failed to pick Iron Man no matter how old he was. “Alright, how about you go brush your teeth and get dressed before we find some breakfast? I haven’t eaten today either.”

Peter was happy to obey instructions even if it felt weird to have Bucky wait for him rather than someone doing it all for him. He quickly did as he was told and even thought to use the bathroom and avoid another accident and soon they were in the kitchen with Bucky making them eggs and the choices over for the time being. He sat watching Bucky cook and it wasn’t until some music was turned on that the ache returned that he hated. It wasn’t bad music and Bucky loved rock almost as much as his Dad. It just felt wrong and weird and Peter had learned to like rap music when Skip had played it loudly every chance he could get. He liked the deep bass and learning the quick words. He liked the way Skip relaxed when it was playing and that he had never been punished with the music on. He smiled for the first time when Peter started mumbling along to the words. 

Nothing was the same and something in his mind just couldn’t handle how every damn thing was different. 

Peter felt the ache in his heart and hated himself for feeling something like that when Bucky was right here. He loved his uncle so much, but he would never get to see Skip again that much he was sure of. He couldn’t say that he wanted to exactly, but the thought made a wave of panic rise in him. It was the dependency Bruce had mentioned at some point when he was still cooped up in medical. Skip had made him completely dependent and then he was gone. 

“Eggs!” Bucky announced as he placed a plate filled with a pile of eggs, plenty of bacon, and three pieces of toast. It was a breakfast he had had so many times before and it smelled pretty amazing, but his stomach was in knots and he knew he would have to feed himself the whole damn thing like he was expected to now. “You look like someone killed the dog you always wanted? You want something else, spiderling?”

Peter shook his head, unwilling to voice what was wrong. He could never tell anyone how much he missed Skip. It was sick and twisted and wrong and no matter how much they told him he would never be punished that would surely be the exception. Either that or they would send him back.

He wasn’t sure he would survive going back.

“Good morning babydoll!” Pops came in the kitchen with his hands and arms full of bags and setting them all down on the counter. “Have a good sleep? You looked like you could use it.”

Peter could see himself smiling and actually answering the question normally like any other kid would. He just couldn’t force himself to actually do it. 

“He’s having a hard day,” Peter heard Bucky say quietly to his Pops. “I helped him get ready after an anxiety attack, but I’m not sure if he wants something else to eat but he looks like I killed his dog.”

“Put away the groceries?” Steve asked to his best friend and Peter couldn’t help but tense as he heard booted footsteps come around the table. A gentle hand came to the back of his neck to squeeze softly. “You want a bite, huh?” Mercifully Steve was scooping some eggs onto a fork and offering it to him. Peter could have cried in relief at something autonomous to do right now. He could simply open his mouth to accept whatever was given to him. It was simple and easy and something he was used to. 

“Hey,” Dad came into the kitchen as well, setting some files down and looking curiously at them. Peter felt his face heat up at his Dad seeing him like this, eighteen years old and content to be spoon fed. He felt his face go hot and stared at the floor. “Um, what’s going on?”

“Just breakfast,” Pops answered as if this was normal and it made Peter feel sick to his stomach. This was so far from normal and a new sadness swept over him for who he used to be. He had been learning how to cook before he had been taken from a concert this past summer. Bucky had been teaching him to cook before he went off to college and he had had so much fun with different creations in the kitchen and eating as much as he wanted. 

It was never supposed to be like this. 

Peter shook his head when he was offered another bite, wanting to break down into tears yet again. His dad was staring at him like he didn’t know who was at his breakfast table and he was causing them so much trouble. 

“Go watch some TV, alright babydoll?” Pops suggested. “Have FRI put on a movie for you to watch. We’ll leave for therapy in a little bit.” 

Peter was not allowed to disobey an order and he shuffled to the living room, but with his hearing he could hear exactly what was said in the kitchen in his absence. 

“Tony, I know things are different, but you can’t do that,” Pops said with irritation in his tone. 

“I didn’t do anything!” Dad said immediately. “I was just shocked to see you feeding our kid who is perfectly capable of feeding himself.”

“He looked lost and miserable and I wanted him to eat something!” Pops argued and Peter closed his eyes tightly. They didn’t fight very often, but he hated it when they did. This time it was directly because of him. It was because he had been feeling so miserable about Skip that he couldn’t feed himself. 

“We need him to be more independent,” Dad argued and Peter knew it was killing him watching his son be this way. For his son to be this helpless. 

“Not today,” Pops replied and his tone was still tense. “This is going to take months Tony, not a matter of days or weeks. He’s been through so much and for so long that he’s conditioned to think a certain way.”

“He’s going to stay conditioned if we don’t try and change it!”

“If he wants a little pampering I’m not against it,” Pops snapped. “He’s my baby and he’s been through more than I can even think about. It makes him relaxed and happy when we take care of him. You have been pushing him too much.”

“Steve, coddling him isn’t the answer right now,” Dad slapped his hand on the counter and Peter flinched. His mind went into panic mode instantly at the loud sound.

Don’thitmedon’thitmedon’thitme

“You both are fucking morons,” Bucky muttered and Peter heard his boots crossing the kitchen. “Independent or codependent he still has enhanced senses.” Peter tried to school his features into calm indifference, but his lip wobbled as soon as Bucky’s concerned face came into view. They both knew he heard the entire argument and he didn’t have to ask before he was being held again as the two of them walked over to the window watching the snowfall. 

“Nobody is angry with you,” Bucky told him quietly, rubbing his back as Peter attempted to control his tears. 

“I don’t wanna be like this,” Peter mumbled sadly with his head on Bucky’s shoulder. “I don’t want to want being held like a baby. I wanna be like I was before. I want Dad to be proud of me again.”

“Hey itsy,” Bucky said with a hand moving to cradle the back of his head. “Your parents are always going to be proud of you, no matter what. I’m fucking proud as hell. You came back to us Pete, and that’s not something everyone can say. You held on for six months with that psycho who took you. You survived the way you needed to, and that is nothing to be ashamed of. It’s just going to take time to switch back.” 

“He’s upset with me,” Peter insisted, knowing his Dad as well as anyone. 

“He’s upset for you,” Bucky corrected gently. “He’s upset your future was taken from you the way you had planned it. I promise Tony isn’t mad at you or loves you one bit less. He’s adjusting and it isn’t as quick as we need it to be.” He kissed Peter on the head softly. “I will always be here to hold you, got me? I don’t care if you’re eighteen or eighty-eight. If you need it, I’ll be there without thinking twice.”

“Love you Bucky,” Peter said softly, nuzzling his cheek against Bucky’s neck gently. 

“I love you too, Peter,” His uncle replied just as soft, continuing to hold him for a while after that until they had to leave for therapy. 

~~~

Peter wished he could do this at the compound.

Sam had told them it might be good for this to be Peter’s outing for the week when he came to sessions. Then if he did have a bad session home would still be a safe space without question. They drove not quite into the city, but close enough for it to be much louder than it was at home. It was a boring brick building where they met and Peter hated it. He hated being somewhere new and he was so tired already even though it wasn’t even four yet. 

He was curled into himself on the floor by the couch as Sam sat on the armchair across from him. 

“So, your parents want us to talk about your codependency,” Sam said quietly and Peter looked at him with his heart starting to beat faster. “I told them we would talk about whatever we wanted to and it was none of their business.”

“Bet Dad took that well,” Peter muttered making Sam laugh a bit. 

“What is the hardest part so far about being home?” Sam asked him and Peter knew they were done chatting about unrelated topics. The work couldn’t start if he didn’t say something. 

“The freedom,” Peter said after a moment. It was mostly true and it was a pretty safe answer. “I don’t have a schedule or structure. I mean I didn’t before either exactly, but I was never left wondering what was next. I was told what to do all the time and now I’m not. It’s weird.”

“That’s totally understandable,” Sam nodded. “I was kind of that way coming home after the military. I had a strict regimen for years and then suddenly I had free time I had no idea how to fill.”

“I can’t even choose whether to shower and get dressed or have breakfast first in the morning,” Peter said softly and tried not to let the tears come. “Dad isn’t happy with me. He doesn’t even know that part and he’s unhappy.”

“What does he know that makes him unhappy?” Sam asked carefully as Peter picked at a hangnail absently. 

“He knows I wet myself almost always,” Peter felt his face turn red, but Sam knew this for weeks now. Bruce had filled him in on that before their first session. “He knows I let Pops feed me this morning. That I wanted him to.”

“Why did you want him to?” Sam’s voice got softer and Peter clenched his eyes shut and forced down the humiliation as best he could. 

“I felt cared for and I felt safe,” Peter whispered as tears fell anyways. “I can’t be punished if he’s doing it for me. I can’t eat the wrong thing or eat too much or not eat enough. I can’t be loud with the silverware or make a mess. It’s just so much more relaxing that way when I know I’m safe.”

“Do you believe your parents when they tell you that you won’t be punished that way anymore?” Sam hadn’t changed his even and soft tone even a bit. Peter wiped at his eyes and tried to stop hating himself. 

“I’m trying,” Peter finally said. “Dad saw and he looked shocked or like someone hit him. I hate being this useless son that he doesn’t want.”

“Why does wanting extra help make you useless?” Sam asked him. “Your Dad knows you’re recovering and that you aren’t better just yet. He might have been a bit surprised, but why do you think he considers you useless? Do you have to have use to be his son?”

“I…. I’m supposed to be better,” Peter finally said, unsure how to answer. “I’m supposed to be the Peter that started MIT a few months ago. This was supposed to be my second semester.”

“What if you had never wanted to go there?” Sam asked him. “What if you had wanted to… I dont’t know...go to trade school for something? If being an EMT was your passion let’s say. Do you think he would have disapproved or loved you less?”

“No,” Peter shook his head without thinking on the answer. “Dad always told me I could be whatever I wanted to be.”

“Then why is this different? Why do you feel like he doesn’t want you?” Sam pressed on.

“I’m only good for sex,” The answer slipped form him before he could think of what to say and he slapped a hand over his mouth. He had been told that by so many men while he was taken. Skip had said it when he was angry with him, or when he was collapsed next to Peter lost in afterglow. Other men had said it as they abused him or slapped him hard enough to see stars. 

“Is that what you really believe?” Sam’s eyes looked sad and Peter just knew he had disappointed him too. He was such a mess. 

“Skip told me that,” Peter replied and it was the first time he had said his name out loud with that newly familiar ache rising inside of him. 

“Skip is the man who took you, right?” Sam clarified. Peter refused to look at him, cursing himself for bringing up that name. It wasn’t even the man’s real name it turned out. Some alias he operated under that they had no real lead on. 

“I stayed with him,” Peter confirmed and his heart was absolutely racing now and he wanted out of here. 

“Why would you believe him over your parents?” The question was supposed to make Peter favor his parents but all it did was affirm that his thinking was correct.

“Skip was always honest,” Peter said with his brow furrowed and scratching at his arm absently. “He never gave me anything without earning it first. If I gave him a nice blowjob in the morning I got to have breakfast. If I had been good the night before and made clients happy I got to be bathed. Everything was on a reward system so I knew I earned it.”

“Would a reward system help you be more comfortable as you learned to adjust to being home?” Sam asked him and Peter could only shrug. He didn’t know what would help anymore. He just knew his parents were unhappy and that he had no idea how to deal with his life. “Have you talked to Ned yet? You mentioned last time you might try.”

“No,” Peter said, feeling awful that his boyfriend hadn’t heard from him still. “He texts with Pops often, but I haven’t talked to him. I just…. I can’t yet.”

“Okay,” Sam said immediately. “That’s totally fine. Recovery happens on your timing and your timing alone, okay? Nobody can rush you or tell you how to feel.” He placed a hand over Peter’s and he jumped when he hadn’t even seen Sam move this entire time. “I think we’re done for right now. I’ll see you on Monday and for now just focus on being with your family. Don’t worry so much about who you’re supposed to be or who you were. You work on doing as much as you’re comfortable with on your own and asking for help or support when you need it.”

Peter nodded and realized his arm was red and raw where he had been scratching and instantly hid it in his sleeve of his jacket. His parents were waiting for him and Dad was first to hug him gently before Sam called them in to talk. Peter had agreed they could know about his sessions before they had started. He just hoped they could go home soon. 

~~~

“So, anything that could help us?” Tony asked immediately as the door clicked shut to Sam’s office. He sat close to Steve on the couch, assured when his husband took his hand immediately between his own. 

“Peter isn’t ready to be pushed yet,” Sam told them as he leaned to rest his elbows on his knees and steepled his fingers together to press to his mouth. “He likes the dependency, at least somewhat. He feels safe when someone else is doing things for him. He told me he won’t be punished or mess it up when a task is done for him. He seems to be more willing to accept affection than he was last week.”

“He lets us hold him now,” Steve said with a smile. Tony would admit that was a huge accomplishment from when they had first found Peter. They could barely touch him at first their son was so scared and shy. “It’s nice to at least hold him when he’s crying. He lets Bucky do the same which is also nice.”

“The dependency is going to take a long time to wean him off of,” Sam told them sadly. “I advise supervision for everything so Peter isn’t overwhelmed by choices or by doing something wrong. It’s not going to hurt him to indulge him now and then to do something for him. You can feed him if he’s tired or overwhelmed. You can help him pick out a shirt to wear if he needs it. Praise is important for him to hear on a regular basis even for simple things. He’s used to it and he thrives off of it I assume. He’s scared to let you down, either of you. He’s afraid of who he is now, which is perfectly understandable. He knows he can’t be the same teeanger, but he doesn’t know exactly who he is on this side of things.”

“Thank you,” Steve told his friend with a hand on his arm. “I know Peter’s case is pretty intense and we appreciate any help you can give us.”

“I’ll see you on Monday guys,’ Sam told them both. “Relax a little this weekend and enjoy your son being home with you finally. Just let him do as much as he can and support him through the rest. Recovery will happen in time I promise.”

Tony shook the man’s and before they left, feeling lost in a way that he hadn’t since Peter had been a child. Back when they had first adopted him Tony had been so scared of messing up the smallest thing. He had been so unsure of how to act around Peter and of how to treat him so that he would never, ever, turn out like him. He wanted Peter to be happy and secure in himself and his life. He never wanted Peter to suffer from anxiety or depression or hating his lot in life. Turns out that despite best efforts Peter ended up having to suffer anyways.

At least he hadn’t directly caused it.

He was quiet as they took Peter home, making Steve glance at him more than once in concern. He went down into the lab and Peter tagged along after him when Steve said he had some work to do. It hurt when Peter wouldn’t so much as touch or look at a single thing in his lab and instead curled up on the couch and was content to simply watch him. He missed dearly when Peter would bound ahead of him and take off without hesitation on a project on his own or on one they had started together. He missed Peter blasting the music he pretended that he couldn’t stand, but he loved seeing Peter singing and dancing around to his favorite songs. 

“C’mere Petey-pie,” He told his son softly, coming to sit on the couch as well after not being able to concentrate on a single thing. A smile briefly flit across Peter’s face at the age-old nickname and his son was happy to cuddle up to him. Tony closed his eyes and hugged him tightly before pulling away and making Peter look at him. “We need to talk for a minute Peter. We haven’t talked much since you came home and I feel like I haven’t made some things clear.”

“Rules?” Peter questioned and the tinge of fear in his wide, brown eyes made his heart hurt fiercely. “If I broke some I’m sorry, but you didn’t tell me any and I wasn’t sure-”

“Shh, Pete, no you did nothing wrong,” Tony tucked a curl behind his ear gently and quietly assured the boy of his love and affection. “I just…. Peter I”m not upset you aren’t going to MIT. I don’t give a flying fuck about that if I’m being honest.”

“Of course you do,” Peter protested, though he wouldn’t look at him as he said it. “I’ve worn your hoodie since I was twelve and it’s all we talked about for years. We had everything planned out to go and had my classes planned since my sophomore year of high school. I was going to be an engineer like you and take over running R&D.”

“That was a plan,” Tony agreed and wished his kid would look at him for just a minute. “But Peter, it doesn’t mean I’m upset with you. You didn’t ask for any of this to happen, kiddo. Plans change and they might have even if you never got… even if this never happened. It was fun to just be with you and watch those eyes light up as we talked about the future. I was happy to see you excited and happy. That’s all it was I promise you.” He found himself choked up as he thought of the countless nights he had doubted he would ever see Peter again. Doubted he would ever hold Peter in his arms or hear him laugh again. He had been convinced Peter was gone for good just when grace let them find something to go on and find him at last. He swiped at his eyes and sniffed as he saw Peter peek up at him, no doubt shocked to see Tony tearing up. 

“I didn’t mean to make you sad,’ Peter said in a small voice as their eyes met. 

“I”m just glad you’re here,” Tony didn't recognize his own voice at the moment as tears fell over his cheeks. “That’s more than I dreamed of for a long time. I don’t really care about what you end up doing for work or if you go to school or not. I want you to be with us and happy for a long time.”

“Don’t cry,” Peter said and his fingers brushed Tony’s cheek gently to wipe away tears. “I don’t want to see you sad. I’m here now and I’m not going away anymore.”

“I love you,” Tony told his son tenderly, hugging him tightly and kissing his curls. “I love you so much, okay? I am proud to call you my son and I always will be. You are the reason I get up in the morning Peter Benjamin. You have been for eighteen years and you will be for eighteen more.”

Peter didn’t say anything in reply to that and Tony was content to just hold him for as long as he could get away with.


End file.
